


Ignorance is Bliss (Usually)

by 60r3d0m



Series: Sam Third-wheeling Winchester [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel is a Casanova, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jealous Castiel, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Miscommunication, Or At Least That's What Sam Thinks, Poor Sam, Sam Doesn't Know Shit, Sam Knows, Sam is a Saint, Secret Relationship, Texting, This Story Requires Great Suspension of Disbelief, just kidding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60r3d0m/pseuds/60r3d0m
Summary: Dean’s voice is all low and husky and “you didn’t do so hot on your exam, Cas,” he says.AndOh god,Sam thinks, and brings his hands up, runs them over his face in his nervousness, through his hair, and what’s it going to be like, he thinks, when he shatters Dean’s world—now, a life so simple where the only worry is Cas failing his laundry test, and then, The After, when Sam’s told Dean that Cas is...Dean and Cas have a very public deathbed confession and officially become an item. And this would totally be thrilling—except Sam gets knocked out during the fight and misses the whole damn thing.Or the one where everybody except Samknowsand Sam thinks Dean’s sudden newfound celibacy is a witch’s curse.





	Ignorance is Bliss (Usually)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic requires some serious suspension of belief because we all know that Sam is a super cute smartie who would know what’s up in 0.45647 seconds because all of the unresolved sexual tension would be suddenly suspiciously absent :P

Sam’s life has been pretty peaceful lately.

And he likes that.

No more Lucifer to chase after. No more achy-breaky Dean and angsty confrontations with Mom who’s finally realized that maybe sneaking around might not be the best way into Dean’s wee little heart. Heck, the real peace comes from no more Crowley calling Dean at three o’ clock in the morning—Dean’s shrill new ringtone waking Sam in their motel room, the speaker phone forcing a listen to whatever Crowley’s saying. Usually weird innuendo-y stuff like, “Got a new case, Squirrel. Something real _hard_ to suck on.”

 _Shudder_.

But _really_ , ever since Tuesday night two weeks ago when Dean suddenly decided to block the King of Hell’s number, Sam’s life has been _bliss—_ he’s even been thinking about asking Eileen to be his girlfriend. 

Tuesday night had also been when all the big shit had gone down—the classic showdown, really. Rowena working her magic while Crowley got the crap beaten out of him. Mom and the British Men of Letters. The only downside had been that Sam had gotten knocked out at some point, a dying Castiel the only thing that he’d seen before he’d blacked out. When he’d woken up, things had seemed fine—Dean had been locked up tight in a friendly, brotherly hug with Cas; Crowley had been bitter (probably because he’d been a punching bag). And Mom. _Boy_ , mom. She had just looked like a deer in headlights, staring off into space (even though it had looked like she had been looking at Dean).

Funny enough, Sam had felt like he’d missed something important.

 

 

 

 

They’re on a hunt, pursuing Sam’s favourite mythical monster—not that he’ll kiss and tell—and Sam’s starting to suspect that something may be more amiss in this little town than they’d originally thought.

Or, well, at least something amiss with _Dean_.

Dean’s been acting weird. All day, he’s been on his phone, texting. More than once, Sam’s turned around to see Dean, disappeared, only to realize that his brother’s a distance away, talking quietly on the phone, looking like he’s found a little piece of heaven maybe—a pie or something—and then Dean will go a little red, rub the back of his neck an awful lot, as if he’s nervous or anxious, and then he’ll clear his throat and he’ll be ducking his head, smiling secretively at the ground.

At first, Sam thinks that maybe there’s a little bit of a surprise birthday party thing going on. Maybe Mom and Dean conspiring to have a little special something for Sammy’s thirty-fourth—maybe Sam’ll even get his first ever birthday cake—a real one—not like the slice of pizza that Dean had accidentally set on fire when he’d stuck a candle in it for Sam’s fourth birthday, pretending it was a cake.

But when Sam’s birthday comes and goes and they’re still on the hunt, not even close to heading home with only a snickering acknowledgement of “Getting old, Sammy?”, Sam finds his eyebrows narrowing, finds himself thinking a lot, and when Dean’s not looking, Sam starts perusing the lore to see what might be up.

But Sam can’t seem to find anything wrong with Dean.

Talking on the phone and texting a lot isn’t exactly a symptom of any bewitchment, except for maybe the curse of twenty-first century America.

 

 

 

 

Sam decides that it’s really nothing.

Or at least that’s how he shrugs it off until they’re on their way home and they stop at a diner halfway through the drive and Dean _doesn’t_ flirt with the hot waitress.

It’s this that makes the alarm bells go off in Sam’s head, when Dean gives a polite perfunctory smile, orders a slice of cake, and then goes right back to his texting—and then _nothing_. No winking at Sam. No smirk. No “Lemme give you some advice about the ladies, Sammy.”

Dean’s just...like a _normal_ person.

So Sam gapes.

It’s two minutes later when Dean turns his eyes away from his phone—only for a second, really—but then Sam sees Dean do a double take, looking almost disturbed as if Sam’s got like maybe a centipede crawling out of his nose or something, because Sam’s still staring at Dean while he’s got his mouth open with silent horror.

“What,” Dean grunts and he sounds a little defensive, throws a glance at his plate, maybe to see if his food is gastronomically unacceptable to Sam, while Sam ends up blurting, “You’re not going to flirt with the waitress?”

Dean has the nerve to look _offended_.

And it’s a _really_ hot waitress.

Hell, Dean starts looking around, kind of dodgy behaviour, and he’s getting flustered, glancing down at his phone a lot, and he snaps when he says, “What, Sam, you don’t think I could be faithful?”

And Sam snorts and “Faithful to what, Dean?” Sam says, incredulous, and he’s kind of confused and he’s kind of not following this conversation. “Dean, the only thing you’re faithful to is pie.”

The rest of the drive home, Dean doesn’t talk to him. Heck, he swats Sam’s hand away when he tries to change the station, and when Sam comments on the weather, Dean gives him a dirty look, as if it’s maybe Sam’s fault that it’s raining.

When they’re an hour away from home and an ad for STD testing for couples plays across the radio, Sam makes the joke that Dean should go do that, and god, Dean suddenly swerves, pulls the Impala to the side, barks, “You shut your piehole ’round Cas,” and then he starts driving again.

Sam stares at Dean for the next fifty-nine minutes, trying to understand how Cas figures into the equation when they haven’t even talked about him for days, and he gets the feeling again that he’s missing something.

 

 

 

 

See, Sam starts getting suspicious that there’s a curse on the Winchester family.

Because it turns out that it’s not just Dean who’s acting weird.

It starts with a call from Mom. Sam’s in the bunker library, Dean gone off to teach Cas how to do laundry because Cas wants to become human but needs training first— _I won’t fall, Sam_ , Cas had said gravely, _until Dean gives me an A on my report card_ ( _yeah_ , Dean had decided to _grade_ him on how compatible he was with humanity).

So Sam’s leaning back in his chair, relaxed and getting a little sleepy (now that Dean’s not there to nag him about doing the dishes), except as soon as the phone rings and Sam puts it to his ear, the dead silence from the other end brings him right back to alertness.

“Um, mom?” he says and Mary says _Hello_. 

There are a few moments then, where there’s loitering in the awkwardness of the silence that’s unraveled on the line, until maybe Mary decides that enough’s enough, and she starts asking Sam how he is, and if she can drop by today because according to her, Sam’s birthday wasn’t last week—it’s _today_ (he just goes along with it).

They’re chatting pretty comfortably five minutes in, and Sam’s getting excited, because Mary asks him if he wants her to bring over a birthday cake and Sam says politely, “No, Mom, that’s fine,” and then she insists and says, “Of course I’m bringing a cake—it’s your birthday, Sam,” and boy, oh, boy, Sam feels like he’s four all over again. 

Except then Sam makes the mistake of mentioning Dean.

It’s when he’s launched into the story of the burning pizza slice that he realizes that Mary hasn’t been saying a word, not even a “mhmm” or “yuh-huh” to keep him going, and then he stops talking abruptly and it’s like he can _feel_ Mom seizing up on the other end before she finally says, “And how is Dean?”

And Sam’s about to answer, except then suddenly Mary says real carefully, as if she’s trying not to step on any toes, that “Cas is a good angel,” and that “[she]’s sure that he’ll make a great man” and “Sam, I know that I left all of a sudden that night but it was so unexpected and my feelings were overwhelming” and “Cas is going to make a wonderful addition to our family, maybe even a husband” and “[Mary] just needs Dean to know this so that [they] can all be on the same side.”

 _Oh my god_ , Sam thinks. Mom wants to make Cas their step-dad.

 

 

 

 

Sam doesn’t know how to break it to Dean.

Because Sam really, really thinks about it, about the conversation that he had with Mary, and thinks more and more until he realizes that Mary doesn’t just want to make Cas their step-dad—she must have been dating him secretly _already_.

That thought almost makes Sam collapse in the hallway on his way to the kitchen. He even considers defenestration.

The hours after, Sam spends panicking because Mary’s coming soon and _oh god, she was going to announce her Cas-marriage to everyone today, wasn’t she_?

And then Sam’s just freaking _pissed_ —at Cas, at Mom—because how is Dean going to adjust to this blow when he finds out he might have to call his best friend “Dad”?

So the hours pass by, and damn it, Dean’s still not done teaching Dad—uh, Cas—how to do the laundry so when Mom finally arrives, Sam can’t even feel any excitement for his very real birthday cake anymore because now of course he’s got to fetch Dean and Cas and oh boy, this is it. Damn it, this is _it_.

He lingers outside the door to Dean’s room, when he doesn’t find the duo down by laundry, and he can hear voices from inside but Sam’s freaking out and he paces outside the room for a bit, tries to calm down, maybe listen to the sounds of Dean and Cas arguing as if their petty fighting is a makeshift security blanket for Sam (it kinda is).

Dean’s voice is all low and husky and “you didn’t do so hot on your exam, Cas,” he says.

And _Oh god_ , Sam thinks, and brings his hands up, runs them over his face in his nervousness, through his hair, and what’s it going to be like, he thinks, when he shatters Dean’s world—now, a life so simple where the only worry is Cas failing his laundry test, and then, The After, when Sam’s told Dean that Cas is going to be their future _Dad_?

From inside Dean’s room, Cas makes a low groaning sound, probably his disappointment at his bad grade, and Sam takes a few deep breaths while Cas pants and says in an awkward stilted way, “Oh, Sir. I tried so hard. I’ll do anything to make it up.”

“ _Anything_?” Dean says.

Sam paces outside the room, bites his nails until he’s got the courage to go in. A minute later, Sam’s knocking on Dean’s door.

There’s swearing from inside, a “ _crap”_ and lots of muffled rustling sounds accompanied by an annoyed Dean going “Whaddya want, Sammy?” and Sam says, “Just open the door, Dean. We have to talk about something.”

And maybe it’s ’cause there’s urgency in Sam’s voice, and seriousness, because Dean opens the door really quickly after that, seems to drop whatever he’s doing, and then Dean’s standing breathless in the doorway and his fly’s open and Sam guesses it must have been like that all day—Sam probably just didn’t notice.

“What,” Dean says and Sam sucks in a breath, gulps, and maybe because he’s always been the little brother, he looks a little helplessly at Dean, as if Dean might be able to deliver him from this hot mess, and finally Sam just says, “Mom’s here.”

Dean’s face goes cold then, and he straightens up a bit, stiffer posture, opens the door a little wider and suddenly Cas is coming up right from behind, hair a disaster because of course Sam’s going to notice bad hair, and Cas places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, a worried expression on his face as he says, “Dean?”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean says then, angrily, and, “Why’s she here now, huh, Sam? Seems like she couldn’t wait to get outta there last time we saw her.”

 _Oh no_ , Sam thinks, because of course it’s just his luck that Dean’s already feuding with Mom and now Dean’s gonna be even more pissed, and Dean can hold grudges for _weeks_ , Sam knows (he’s seen Dean’s silent treatment), and oh, man, now Sam’s gotta tell him that Cas is their _dad_.

So understandably, Sam tries to cast this responsibility away from himself.

“Look, Dean, I’m not here about Mom. It’s…I’m here about Cas. I think Cas has something to say.”

That throws Dean off guard, and he looks confused, and he opens the door a little wider, lets Sam into the room even though Sam was literally 0.9817 seconds away from fleeing, and “What do you mean, Sam?” Dean says.

Sam rocks awkwardly on his feet, looks desperately at Cas, wishes Cas would say a damn thing, but it looks like Cas is feigning innocence because he’s looking confused, squinting at Sam with puzzled eyes.

“You know, man, it’s really unfair that you haven’t told Dean what you’ve been doing,” Sam says, and then heck, Sam’s suddenly indignant, frustrated, and “You’ve been kissing her,” Sam says, hysterically, “and… _god_ , probably sleeping with her, and you didn’t think once about telling Dean? Didn’t think once about how it’s going to change your relationship? I’m disappointed in you, man. I thought we taught you better.”

And incredibly, Cas just looks shocked at Sam’s outburst, and he’s _still_ denying this, Sam can’t believe it, so Sam turns and looks at Dean, waiting for Dean to interrogate Cas, switch on the gruff “What did you do?” voice that he uses when Sam’s made a big mistake (like maybe drinking demon blood), but the voice doesn’t come.

Instead Sam sees that Dean’s staring at Cas, looking hurt, and he’s moving his lips, as if he’s going to say something, except that he doesn’t and Dean just stops, closes his mouth but his bottom lip wobbles.

Now Sam wonders if Dean might’ve known already— _gosh_ , what if Cas had promised to stop sleeping with Mom and then had still kept doing it?

God, Sam can’t handle it.

So Sam runs out of there like hell.

 

 

 

 

Mom forgets to get him a birthday cake.

And she leaves without telling him.

A post-it note on the fridge explains: _Emergency hunt. Happy fortieth, Sam! Love, Mom_.

His birthday gift is a magazine whose front page claims to have the secrets to stop balding.

 

 

 

 

Because the bunker’s been silent since she left, enough to make Sam worry about how Dean’s doing, Sam calls Mary and he flat-out asks, “Why the hell would you sleep with him, Mom?” and, “Didn’t you think about how Dean would feel?”

“How did Dean find out?” Mary says, and then she says that she’s certain about two things in her life and that they’re one: she despises Ketch (random, Sam thinks, but he agrees with the sentiment) and two: what Sam is talking about is never going to happen again.

So Sam sighs in relief.

At least Mom and Cas have broken up.

But Sam can’t help but feel like some of the pieces don’t seem to fit the puzzle…

 

 

 

 

The next few weeks are hell for Sam.

Cas starts giving Sam a smitey face anywhere and everywhere. Dean gives Sam mixed signals, sometimes angry at Sam or sometimes angry at Cas, but about three weeks in, since none of them discuss it, things go back to normal: hunting things, saving people, miscommunication, the family business—even if it doesn’t feel like they’re family.

Sam notices about a week in that Cas and Dean are sleeping in the same bed (how long have they been doing that?), probably because Dean’s testing Cas on sleeping like a human and it’s just the best way to observe Cas’ humanity skills. But Dean keeps giving Cas an F on every humanity test—doing the dishes, fixing the Impala, patching up a wound with stitches—and with every F, Cas’ sad face gets a little sadder, and even though he keeps trying to pass so that he can finally become human and be a part of the family, Dean goes on giving Cas the cold shoulder. When they fight, Dean always says the same thing: “Damn it, Cas. You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” It’s a grade worse than F. It’s zero.

Those nights, Cas glares at Sam harder than usual.

 

 

 

 

Six weeks after Sam had revealed Cas’ affair with Mom to Dean, Sam’s kind of at his breaking point.

And it’s this day that Mary decides to pop in for the first time since the big blow-up.

She has a key, and so none of them are expecting it when she interrupts their morning meal. With nowhere to run, they’re cornered at the table. She’s carrying a big bouquet of flowers, and Sam feels a little of his irritation seep away. It’s not a cake but maybe Mom’s trying to make amends.

But the flowers are for Dean and Cas. To Sam, she nods a hello and presses another magazine into his hands. _Tips and tricks for hiding male-pattern baldness_ , the magazine promises.

“I know I haven’t been here when you’ve needed me,” she begins, “but Dean…Castiel, I wanted to let you know that I’m completely fine with—I love you, Dean. You’re my son. I know that my behaviour lately has been—I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

And it’s a miracle.

With that simple apology from Mom for hooking up with Cas, Dean’s icy expression seems to melt a little. Sam watches his brother’s shoulders sag with relief, as if Dean had been worrying about a mole for weeks only for the doctor to give him the clear, and then the rest of the day, Dean seems even cheery. When Cas has his turn to wash the dishes that night, Dean even gives him a C minus and pushes up right against him, giving him a hug from behind.

Sam smiles.

The three of them can be brothers again.

 

 

 

 

Of course, Sam learns that happiness can only last so long.

They’re having lunch in a diner when things turn ugly. Sam’s on his laptop, chattering about the new mythical monster that the town seems to be obsessed with, and Cas and Dean are opposite him in the booth. They’re waiting to order. It’s Cas’ turn. He’s being tested today.

“Hey, what’s with the hair, Sammy?” Dean says and Sam feels his face go hot.

“Nothing,” Sam says and he can’t help but fidget with the keyboard. He starts putting his laptop away, tries to keep his voice casual as he mumbles, “I just thought I’d try combing it over in a different direction,” and then he’s suddenly regretting sending selfies to Mom and Eileen. But Dean doesn’t seem to think the hairdo’s bad because Sam doesn’t get teased, only gets a hum from Dean as an answer, and then Dean wraps an arm around Cas’ shoulder and leans back.

Sam doesn’t know it yet but it’s going to be their last peaceful moment for a while.

After another two minutes, Sam’s getting antsy, feels the urge to pull open his laptop again, or maybe his phone and beg Mom and Eileen to ignore his last text, but the three of them haven’t gotten along this well in ages, so instead Sam tries to distract himself by looking around, reads the large signs decorating the walls.

It’s when he remembers the curse.

See, being in a familiar setting jogs Sam’s memory, and when he spots the waitress, his brain suddenly remembers the last time that they’d been in a place like this—the first time that Dean had started acting weird—the first time that Sam had suspected a family curse.

And now Sam realizes it’s happening all over again.

Heck, what is Dean doing, Sam wonders, when the waitress that’s been flitting around is possibly the hottest woman that Sam’s ever laid eyes on—so hot that even some of the women customers in this diner seem to be batting their eyelashes in her direction? Sam starts shifting in his seat uncomfortably, starts watching Dean expectantly, waiting for him to notice the waitress, but when Dean merely glances in her direction and doesn’t even do a double take, Sam starts to sweat—god, what’s happened to his brother?

What’s happening to his _family_?

When the waitress finally starts making her way over to take their order, Sam starts praying to Chuck, hopes that Dean’ll finally notice the goddess-woman and maybe, just maybe, Sam’ll be lucky and won’t have to engage in heavy research to save his brother’s personality, because that just gives Sam bad reminders about the Mark of Cain.

When the waitress arrives, Sam holds his breath.

And Cas smiles.

Heck, Cas smiles and he’s dazzling, stunning in a way that Sam’s never noticed before, full flirty while glancing from the waitress to his menu, and that’s when Sam realizes with horror that the waitress kind of resembles their mom—she’s tall, Sam’s height, with light-brown hair that could be almost blonde, and a chubby round face that Mom probably had when she was a kid. _Oh, god,_ Sam thinks _. She even has the same_ eyes, except the colour’s different—black, and a little rounder than Mom’s. In fact, the more that Sam looks at her, the more he realizes what a doppelganger she is. He almost calls her Mom.  

And her beauty and resemblance doesn’t go unremarked. Dean must notice, too, then, because Dean straightens up, looks at Cas and that beautiful smile, and then he clenches his jaw, probably mad that Cas’ Casanova ways aren’t changing any time soon—probably because Dean feels just as uncomfortable with Cas’ taste being women that look like their mother, and Sam notices that the arm that Dean’s got thrown around Cas’ shoulders tightens a little. Heck, Sam sees Dean suddenly move in a little closer, and if Cas and Dean weren’t joined at the hip before, they definitely were now.

“Hello,” Cas says and the waitress beams right back at Cas and says, “What can I get you?”

After that, Sam wishes that he’d never been born.

Cas looks down at the menu, squints at the items and points at what they’d decided on earlier. He looks to Dean for confirmation, but Dean gives him an icy look in return and Cas kind of shrivels, his smile fading and he says _Dean?_ in a questioning sort of way, but Dean glares and starts looking out the diner window.

 _Yeah, Cas, we know you were checking out the waitress_ , Sam thinks and maybe he sends vexed prayer-y vibes to Cas because Cas looks up at him, completely startled.

“Have you decided what you’re going to get, Sir?” the waitress prompts.

Cas opens his mouth, starts mumbling while staring intensely at Sam, and then Cas is just perplexed, hesitating and either looking down at the menu or turning to look up at Dean’s stony face.

“If you’re having trouble deciding, I could recommend some items, handsome,” the waitress says, and then Cas smiles at her, nervously, maybe, but clearly elated that he’s got a chance with the Mom look-alike now, especially since she's called him _handsome_.   

When Cas finally gets his mouth working, all flirty smiles, the waitress giving him the affirmation that Dean isn’t willing to, Cas even gets out a tentative, “Um, thank you…beautiful,” and that's when Dean suddenly seems to decide that he doesn’t want Cas to order at all. Instead, Dean butts in, brings up his usual waitress-charming smile, and he’s even flirting, Sam thinks, probably to stop Cas from going after people who look like their mother, and Sam thanks God that Dean is back to his usual self (maybe his family isn’t cursed at all).

“Yeah, my brother, Sam here would like the nerdiest collection of leaves you can get him, and we’d like one your classic good ol’ juicy hamburgers with a healthy helping of fries, ain’t that right, _babe_?”

Well, it’s a weird pick-up line, Sam thinks, and inviting the waitress to split a burger is definitely a new Dean move, but at least he’s not under a witch’s curse.

The waitress smiles—although for a second there, Sam thinks that she gives Dean and Cas a weird anxious look and she seems to make a sort of hand signal to Dean, as if to say “I’m backing off,” but that can’t be right, Sam thinks—and then she seems normal, tells them that she’ll bring their salad and burger right out, and Sam’s kind of impressed—usually when Dean calls women ‘babe,’ he gets scoffed at and ignored (and Dean had been rather aggressive while saying it this time, too—miracle work, Sam believes).

So Sam’s feeling a little bit better about the whole situation, thinks everything’s going slowly back to normal, except Dean drops his arm away from Cas’ shoulders then, says in a real testy voice, “So, that waitress was pretty attractive, huh, Cas?”, and Cas just narrows his eyebrows, gives Dean a really no nonsense look, a really dominating look, maybe even a little smitey, and growls, “What are you implying, Dean?”

And then Sam’s just astonished, because Dean’s suddenly really pissed, and he looks a little like a five year old toddler throwing a tantrum because he pushes his way out of the booth, grabs Cas’ hand, entwines their fingers real tight, and says, “Get your cheating ass over here,” and then he’s yanking Cas into the diner bathroom.

Sam’s stomach fills with dread.

Ten minutes later and the food’s arrived but Dean and Cas are still holed up away. Sam looks apologetically at the waitress, tells her that his brother definitely wants the date but that he’s going to be a little late, and the waitress says, “What date?” so then Sam’s confused and things just aren’t making much sense these days.

Another five minutes later, and the whole diner’s gone quiet.

Everybody’s staring at the bathroom door.

Sam tries to hide himself in the corner of the booth, tries to school his expression in such a way as if to say _I don’t know them_ , because _Oh, god_ , _the voices_.

Heck, Sam doesn’t know what’s happened there, in the bathroom, because suddenly Dean and Cas are shouting, voices echoing off the tiles in there, and damn it, Sam doesn’t even know what to do, because it really, _really_ sounds like a couple’s fight, even though Sam is a hundred percent aware that Dean’s just angry that Cas keeps going after women that remind them of their mother.

“Oh, yeah, Cas?” Dean’s saying, and his voice is just getting louder and louder. “’Cause that’s not what it looked like. Cut the crap. I _know_ you were looking at her. What was this, huh? What was”—Dean’s voice deepens, mimicking Cas’ gravelly tone—“‘ _thank you, beautiful_ ,’ huh, Cas? What the hell was that? Don’t think that I didn’t see you smiling and batting your pretty blue eyes at—is this how it’s gonna be every time now? I gotta freaking act like a possessive bastard every time that there’s a damn woman in the room just to keep from being cheated—damn it, damn it, if you’re doing this because you think that I don’t care—damn it, Cas, I love y—”

And then Cas is cutting Dean off, and Sam cowers and shakes in his seat because Cas is talking about Sam.

“I just don’t understand why you won’t believe me when I say that Sam is _lying_ , Dean. Dean—I haven’t slept with any woman. I—”

“Oh, yeah, Cas? Why the hell would Sam lie? He’s my brother, do you really expect me to believe—it’s _Sam_ , Cas. It’s not freaking Crowley or something. It’s Sam so why would he—”

“I don’t know, Dean! I just know…I just know that I love—”  

And then—and then nothing.

Cas’ voice cuts off, and it’s eerily quiet.

The whole party in the diner looks spooked.

 _Oh my God_ , Sam thinks. _They’ve killed each other_.   

 

 

 

 

They haven’t killed each other.

But the manager comes and tries to kick Sam out and has plans to call the police in order to fetch and “detain the highly dangerous and volatile customers in the restroom”—so Sam spends about ten minutes arguing with her before he convinces her that Dean and Cas are truly gentle creatures and that all of them “will leave in peace,” if only Sam could be allowed to go in and get them.

But in the end, he doesn’t have to go get them.

They come out on their own.

Heck, they come out with flushed faces and looking a little sweaty, and they’re panting a little—Sam groans—they probably took turns beating each other up over the argument regarding Mom and her look-a-like.

But at least they look kind of pleased with themselves now.

 

 

 

 

The rest of the week, neither Cas nor Dean will talk to him.

Sam’s bewildered.

But the most hurtful part is that Cas seems to insist that Sam’s lying about Cas’ affair with their mom, even though Sam’s even had Mary admit to the break-up. It doesn’t make sense. It seems out of character for Cas—at least now that Cas’ days of being in cahoots with Crowley are over—and Sam just doesn’t know what to do because now Dean thinks that _Sam’s_ the liar and refuses to talk to him because “ _what the hell, Sam_?”.

So Sam relates all of his problems to Eileen.

They video chat for hours, Eileen listening patiently while doing her nails or brushing her pet poodle, Doug, and she keeps insisting that she should talk to Cas, maybe see if they have some sort of misunderstanding, some sort of miscommunication, but Sam just vehemently shakes his head every time because he’s afraid Dean and Cas’ anger will get redirected at her.

Lastly she tells him that his hair looks really awful now, and that she liked him better before.   

“It kind of looks like you’re combing your hair to hide a bald spot,” she says.

 

 

 

 

The weeks of Dean’s anger don’t cease. Sam tries to talk to him and Cas, but both of them put up a united front as if they’re some sort of married couple. Eventually, Sam just gets irritated at his unfair treatment, and when he gets the chance to strike back and take some petty revenge, he swoops down on it.

It’s a day where Dean’s gone from the bunker and Cas is loitering in the kitchen, blatantly ignoring Sam, Dean having been asked by Mary to accompany her to a doctor’s visit. It’s not really for Mary, Sam knows, because Dean had recently revealed that he hadn’t gone to the doctor in the last thirty-two years, unlike Sam who went for his yearly check-up, and Mary had been appalled, and possibly even more appalled when Dean had insisted that he wasn’t gonna go _ever_ , so Mary had sneakily waited a couple of months and then had shown up last night to inform Sam to lie to Dean so that she could force Dean to go see a doctor.

“Dean probably has every STD known to man,” Sam had warned her, but when she had looked like she was going to die of fright, Sam had added on hastily, “Mom, relax. Cas probably cures him every week. He’s probably fine.”

But she hadn’t liked his “probably.” She had, however, wondered if he might be interested in getting a hair transplant.

So, anyway, point is Sam’s angry—at Dean, at Mom, at Cas—and when he’s putting together a little salad in the kitchen, it’s not a surprise that his mind immediately turns to revenge when he notices that Dean’s forgotten his cell phone on the counter beside the fridge.

With a few looks in Cas’ direction to make sure that he’s not watching, he takes it.

And then he’s in his room.

Sam’s revenge plan is simple.

Maybe texting naughty messages to Jody or something. Nothing too explicit but enough to make Dean blush as he tries to explain the mishap.

Except that’s when Sam notices a new contact.

 _Baby_.

It says Baby.

At first, Sam’s concerned, maybe for Dean’s mental health because Baby is Dean’s car, and since Baby’s an inanimate object, the Winchester family might have real reason to take Dean to the doctor if he’s been having imaginary conversations with her.

But then Sam notices that there are _replies_.

Heck, there are long, intimate conversations, all time stamped to when they’ve been on hunts. And then Sam’s remembering when he had first been concerned for Dean’s obsessive texting and calling behaviour, when he’d first thought that Dean might be under a witch’s influence.

Now Sam realizes that Dean’s not cursed at all.

Suddenly, Dean’s sudden celibacy makes sense. Suddenly, Sam knows why Dean was so angry when he’d been questioned on being faithful, because _oh god_ , Dean’s fallen in _love,_ and now he has a secret _girlfriend_  and he’s code-named her  _baby_.

And then all in the middle of this, while Sam’s having epiphanies, Dean’s phone buzzes.

The girlfriend sends a text and then Sam’s immediately ready for revenge.

 

 

 

 

Okay, so Sam doesn’t really know how to seek revenge. See, it’s not really in his nature. He’s always been a sweet boy, at least according to an elderly lady that Sam had helped cross the street once, and well, Lucifer’s vessel or not, he doesn’t really like making people feel bad.

So even though at first, he entertains the idea of a pretend break-up, he quickly dismisses it. He’s happy that Dean’s found someone. It had been one of Sam’s greatest worries. It’s why he’d been too afraid to ask Eileen out. But clearly Dean’s been too shy to introduce his lady to Sam. Man, Dean’s probably worried about Sam—probably thinks that he can never get married or have kids and the whole house with the white picket fence thing because he’s got to take care of his baby brother.

So Sam gets another idea.

 

Baby: Dean, are you almost done at the doctor’s?

 

Sam takes a moment to respond. Even after thousands of texts over the years, Sam’s not exactly sure how to emulate Dean best. Sure, his brother swears a lot and says a lot of things that don’t really make sense, stuff like, “You don’t take a joint from a guy named Don, and there’s no dogs in the car,” so it’s no surprise that Sam’s having a little trouble.

So he scrolls up. Starts reading some of Dean’s old texts to his secret lover.

 

Dean: morning, sunshine sam’s snoring woke me up. gonna fetch some coffee. still nothing on the wendigo. don’t know when we’ll be back yet but uh you know…those words…to you

Baby: I know the words “to” and “you”, Dean. I’ve used them many times with you. :)

Dean: uh yeah that’s not what i mean, buddy  

Baby: I am very puzzled? :D

Dean: miss you

 

Sam rolls his eyes. Even with a girlfriend, Dean’s emotionally constipated. God, either that or Sam’s reading texts from a very early part of their relationship.

 

Dean: i can’t sleep.

Baby: I have heard that counting sheep can be very effective. Are you near a farmer’s field, Dean? :O

Dean: you’re adorable, you know that? 

 

Sam keeps scrolling. He stops when he sees a long list of numbers. Confused, he scrolls to the start of the conversation.

 

Dean: can’t sleep.

Baby: Is there a farmer’s field near you, Dean? :(

Dean: no but it’s not that

Baby: Then we’ll do what we did last time. :P

Baby: 1

Baby: 2

Baby: 3

Baby: 4

Dean: it’s not that

Baby: 5

Baby: 6

Dean: i can’t sleep because

Baby: 7

Baby: 8

Dean: STOP

Dean: i’m not good for you

Dean: you’ll do better without me so

Dean: we can’t do this anymore

Baby: I don’t understand.

Dean: we can’t freaking love each other, ok?

Baby: :D

 

Sam’s heart drops in his chest. Could it be that they’d broken up? He also gets the feeling that Dean’s girlfriend doesn’t really get how to use emoticons despite her voracious appetite for them.

Sam takes a breath and runs his hand over his face. Then he keeps reading.

 

Dean: stop calling me.

Baby: You want me to call you.

Dean: no…i can’t do this, ok? i can’t. we can’t. leave it. did u see how mom reacted when she saw us? and sam…sammy hasn’t even mentioned it once. would’ve figured he’d give a congrats or something but he didn’t. he’s acting as if he doesn’t know. he’s pretending im…he wanted me to flirt with a waitress today alright? he didn’t…he doesn’t like who i am.

Baby: :)

Dean: that’s not a sad face damn it. i’ve told you a thousand times. u keep mixing them.

Dean: damn it stop

Dean: stop calling me

Baby: You need me, Dean.

Dean: no

Baby: Then why can I feel you longing for me?

 

Sam reads more and more texts. He doesn’t mean to pry but he gets sucked in and he can’t figure out why Dean’s mentioning him. There are so many moments missing. Moments where Dean must’ve met up with his girlfriend, moments that they must’ve shared without anyone else knowing. The texts themselves tug on Sam’s heartstrings in a way that feels familiar, as if he’s seen this love story before, a thousand times over, and he can’t help but feel proud when he scrolls down further and further to see that Dean eventually starts accepting love, even if it takes time.

Maybe one day, Sam thinks, they can all be family.

 

Dean: changed your name in my phone

Baby: Why?

Dean: changed it to Baby

Baby: Why, Dean?

Dean: why do you think, babe

Baby: Are you renaming me?

Dean: sweetheart cmon now

Baby: Are you insulting me? :)

Baby: * :(

 

And Sam’s so absorbed into reading that he doesn’t even remember his not-really-revenge-at-all plan until Dean’s phone buzzes again with a new text from the girlfriend.

 

Baby: Dean, please answer me. I’m sensing that you’re undergoing emotional trauma at the doctor’s office and it is very worrying :D

 

Sam takes a breath. Okay. Time to deploy his plan into action. He does his best Dean impression.

 

Dean: Hey, babe! I’m good and don’t take a joint from Don.

Baby: Who is Don, Dean? I don’t know him.

Dean: Where are you, babe?

Baby: Dean, who is Don?

 

Sam types the first thing that pops into his brain.

 

Dean: Crowley’s friend. Where are you, babe? 

Baby: Dean, I thought that you said that you cut ties with Crowley because of the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach that I had whenever he called you every night to do nothing but make elaborate sexual innuendos.

 

Sam doesn’t even know what to say. But he’s not surprised to see that Crowley’s trying to woo Dean away from his girlfriend.

 _Shudder_.

God, Sam still remembers their summer of love.

 

Dean: I did, babe! It’s just an expression! Don isn’t real! Where are you?

Baby: Dean, you said Don was Crowley’s friend.

Baby: Dean, this is bringing back the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.

 

Sam groans. Talking to Dean’s girlfriend kind of feels like talking to Cas.

   

Dean: Babe, we can talk about this in person. Where are you now?

Baby: At home.

Dean: What’s the address again, babe?

 

There’s a long pause after this, and Sam wonders if the girlfriend got bored of texting, but then Dean’s phone buzzes.

 

Baby: Dean. Please tell Mary to call me. She’s not picking up. The doctor has done something to your memory. You can’t seem to remember where the bunker is located. I’m very worried, Dean.

 

Sam almost drops the phone.

And then Sam’s freaking out because if Dean’s girlfriend’s house is the bunker, then that means that she’s _here_ and Dean’s been—god, Dean’s been hiding her in their home this whole time, hasn’t he?

It’s not that Sam’s worried that the girlfriend might be an axe-wielding lunatic. But it’s unsettling. It just makes his skin crawl knowing that the times that he had thought that he was alone, he might not have been—singing old Mariah Carey songs from his teenage years in the shower, not-so-covert farts, watching Dean’s porn and being surprised to find a lot of dude-on-dude stuff—and now Sam’s having a bit of crisis. His original plan had been to meet her and let her know that Dean didn’t have to hide about being in love (Sam’s grand revenge plan might not have been so grand nor much of a revenge-seeking one at all), but now Sam’s just tempted to pick up his gun and stalk each room until he finds her so that he can evict the woman (and maybe interrogate her about what she knows).

Five minutes later, and Sam’s making his way to Dean’s room.

When he gets there, it’s empty.

 

Dean: Where are you, babe? Come to my room. I’m here now.

 

But Sam gets no response. Instead, a minute later, he hears voices. Cas and Dean. Dean must’ve come back from the doctor.

What happens next, Sam will regret for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe it’s because things have been so rocky between Dean and Cas and himself. Maybe it’s because of this that he doesn’t want to be discovered snooping around in his brother’s room, so as the voices get nearer, rather than walking out of the room like a normal person, maybe with the excuse of borrowing a pen or something, Sam hides under Dean’s bed instead.

Not more than a second later, Dean and Cas enter the room.

They lock the door behind themselves.

 

 

 

 

Sam lies there for fifteen minutes while Dean complains about the doctor’s visit and the great big deception that Mom had played on him. He hears Cas, listening patiently, only interrupting to murmur soft words of encouragement, and Sam wonders why the hell Dean’s confiding in Cas like this when his girlfriend’s here somewhere, probably lurking in some shadowy corner.

“Freaking doctor gave me three injections while Mom held me down.”

“Dean, you get shot and stabbed daily.”

“I know but—but needles are different, Cas!”

Sam sighs, starts playing a game on Dean’s phone while he tries to wait out the mundane. For a second, he considers texting Dean’s girlfriend, but ultimately decides not to since she hasn’t responded (and also because he’s afraid that he might hear her phone vibrating from somewhere creepy—oh god, what if she’s in the closet? What if she comes out?).

Finally after a grand total of twenty-seven minutes of ranting about the deep betrayal that he’d felt at Mary’s hand, Dean’s voice suddenly goes soft, enough for Sam to take note, and the bed shifts above Sam—maybe Dean’s moved a little bit closer to Cas, maybe they’re sitting side by side now, joined at the hip—and Dean says, “So, uh, how was your day, sunshine?”

 _Oh, great, here we go again_ , Sam thinks. More complaints that Sam’s going to have to suffer through. Man, when were they going to leave so that he could finally get out from under the bed? Sam’s feeling kind of claustrophobic.

Sam almost yelps when instead of hearing Cas answer Dean’s question as expected, the mattress dips down above Sam’s head with a loud creak. Sam cowers a little, eyes bulging with fear as there’s a great flurry of movement up on the bed above him, and then Dean’s voice, a little muffled, as if maybe he suddenly decided to face plant into the pillows or something, and Dean says, “Woah there, tiger. I asked about your day, Cas—not to manhandle me into bed.”

 _What the hell is going on?_ Sam wonders. _Are they about to get into another fight? Ugh, just my luck._

“Really, Dean?” Cas growls. “Because I couldn’t help but wonder if Don might be a way of making me jealous—a way to get me into bed with you—and congratulations, Dean, it’s worked, because trust me, I am _very_ jealous.” 

“Don?” Dean says, dazed, and then Dean lets out a breathy moan.

In the meanwhile, Sam’s completely frozen.

Sam’s body stills before he even comprehends Cas’ words, and then suddenly, _Don_ —Don, and the conversation Sam had had with Dean’s jealous girlfriend, and—and…

 _Oh_.

Everything falls into place.

Everything starts falling into place just as it’s too late for Sam to run out from under the bed and escape because Sam hears unzipping sounds, and then the sides of the bed are being pelted with clothes that are being shed, and it’s erotic sighs and dirty talk, and that’s when Sam finally puts the pieces together and it’s not a witch’s curse and it’s not a girlfriend—it’s just Dean and Cas.

Dean and Cas are in love and Sam’s finally _noticed_.

“Fuck,” Dean groans.

For the first bit of Cas and Dean’s foreplay, Sam’s just too shocked to move, too lost in thoughts. He’s bombarded with guilt—things like blaming Cas for sleeping with Mom when Sam realizes now what had actually happened—how he’d almost broken his brother and Cas up—how he’d basically forced Dean into believing that Cas was—well—that Cas was a damn _Casanova_ , and now the incident with the goddess-waitress in the diner from a few weeks ago suddenly makes a whole lot more sense.

But even Sam’s guilt isn’t enough to distract Sam forever.

Eventually, maybe it’s karma, because then Sam is aware of _everything_.

God, all the groaning and moaning. All the shuddering, barely voiced words throughout all the pleasure. All the _fuck me harders_ and the bed creaking, the frame shaking, the bed springs shrieking as if fate is being cruel and wants to give Sam an audible reminder that his internal monologue right now is just tortured screaming. God, Sam’s there throughout it all, throughout all of Dean’s pleas of _Damn it, Cas, right there, right there_ , and Cas’ own teasing prompts, sometimes light—sometimes just _Do you want me to touch you here, Dean?_ or _Do you like being under me?_ —and other times, darker and deeper things, Cas’ voice low and hot as he promises _You’re going to feel the ache for days_ and Dean just whimpers in return.

It seems to go on forever, and sometimes Sam cries a few tears, and sometimes he’s numb, only to return from those periods of deep trauma with a sob, and then he cries aloud, for mercy, by saying things like _Please, God—someone help me please,_ just as Dean’s moaning gets so much louder because Cas has just told him that _you’re doing so well, Dean_ , and that  _you’re taking it so well_.

But eventually…eventually, it all stops.

It all stops and then it’s all sleepy voices, with Dean mumbling _love you_ , and _need you forever, Cas, sweetheart_ , _always_ , and Cas going sincerely, _I love you, too, Dean_ , and after that, it becomes so quiet that Sam wonders if they both fell asleep.

Of course, life’s never that simple for Sam.

Sam hears Dean yawn, but then Dean’s stretching, declaring that he’s hungry, and the two of them are pulling their clothes back on, and since Fortune's cruel plans are unknown to Sam, Sam takes this moment to praise the Lord that he’ll finally be able to run away.

Except then Dean says, “I can’t find my phone.”

And Sam’s mouth opens with horror.

No…

 _No_.

 _NO_.

The phone’s sitting on the floor right in front of Sam.

Cas says, “I’ll call it, Dean.”

There’s a moment where Sam sees his whole life flash before his eyes—memories of being an infant when things were so much simpler—memories of Sam’s birthday and the pizza that Dean had set on fire—heck, Sam even starts remembering his time in the Cage as a happy memory—but then Sam’s ears are suddenly assaulted with classic rock, and then Dean’s saying, “What the hell?” before Dean bends down to peer underneath the bed to find the source of the ringing.

Sam's eyes meet Dean's.

The silence that follows this moment will never be matched.

And then Sam’s lips twitch uncontrollably as he tries to force a nervous smile.

“Um, hi, Dean,” he says, and Sam knows that his life's never going to be the same again.

Ignorance is bliss, Sam thinks.

 _Usually_.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always super cool if you've got the time. I'd love to hear from you! And if you'd like, you can visit me on Tumblr [here!](http://60r3d0m.tumblr.com)
> 
> Edit: This is going to be the first part of a series of unrelated one-shots that will all feature meddling! and/or oblivious!Sam so you're welcome to subscribe to the series if that's your jam :D There's no set update schedule. Rather, it's whenever inspiration hits. Part Two coming out May 2018.


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